


Heaven and Earth

by thinlizzy2



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Community: shipswap, F/F, The Rare Ship Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1422391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/pseuds/thinlizzy2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A princess, an archer and a night under the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven and Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauren (notalwaysweak)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/gifts).



By comparison to the mountains in the distance, the stones shifting at the base of the river, the stars glimmering overhead, Arwen is certainly not old. But she has walked on the ground, drunk the cool river water and walked beneath the twinkling stars long enough to have seen some remarkable beauty. She has seen the moon tinted golden when the skies rearranged themselves as part of their great unknowable plan. She has seen the pattern of light and shadow created as the wind blew clouds in front of the sun and she has marvelled as the sky became streaked with fire during lightning storms. She has been witness to every possible shade of rose and gold that sunsets and sunrises have to offer. She knows she is no stranger to beauty. 

But the sight before her now is one that takes her breath away.

She stands beside her father as he speaks with Thrandruil. Arwen is fortunate that they are distracted with each other; it would not do for her father or his companion to notice her suddenly agitated state. These two elven kings have not met for a period of time that feels long even to them, and it has been longer still since Elrond visited this woodland kingdom. 

Thrandruil is proud, perhaps dangerously so, although Arwen knows better than to give voice to that thought. He has delighted in showing Elrond and his daughter his beautiful home, in feeding them delicacies and in having his musicians play for them. And now, as he shows off the archers who defend Mirkwood, his eyes have that same self-satisfied gleam.

He thinks these warriors are his. But Arwen knows they are not. 

She is certain that no one could ever own Tauriel.

The archer's hands are firm on her bow, her grip is skillful and sure. Arwen watches her line up another target, sees the muscles in her arms knot under the fabric of her tunic. She lets the arrow fly with an easy confidence, and when it hits the mark Arwen gasps like she herself has been struck.

The elven prince behind her applauds enthusiastically, and a shadow crosses Thrandruil's face as he glances at his son. He gestures for silence and then claps his own hands twice. The archers bow and withdraw, and dancers flow into the emptiness to take their place.

Arwen's heart contracts as Tauriel retreats into the shadows. Her mind races through countless excuses, but she can think of no real justification for leaving these kings and princes to follow after a guardswoman. 

So instead of speaking, she simply goes.

She follows behind Tauriel at a distance, not close enough to be detected nor far enough to lose sight of her. She wonders why Tauriel does not stay with the others, who are chattering nervously as they put their bows and arrows away, wondering what they could have done to make the king cut their performance short. Is she distant from the other archers, unfriendly and prideful? Or - like Arwen herself - are there simply moments when she cannot perform the role expected of her?

When Tauriel stops in a clearing to tend to her gear, Arwen slips behind a tree. She watches as Tauriel applies oil to the bow, most likely to keep keep the wood supple. Her fingers gleam with liquid as they skim along the curve; the touch is somehow tender. Arwen can keep silent no longer.

"Beautiful." It is all she can think to say.

Tauriel turns to look at her, and from her stance Arwen realises that her presence here is no surprise. She should have known she could not ambush a Mirkwood warrior. She steps out into the open, her cheeks reddened by embarrassment mingled with something else. 

For a long time, Tauriel simply looks. She regards Arwen, standing in the starlight in her ceremonial robe with cool metal at her throat and atop her head, and then she nods her head. "Yes. Beautiful." 

And Arwen knows she is understood.

She relies on that understanding as she walks to Tauriel's side and runs her own hand along the glistening bow, feeling what the other woman has touched for the first time. "Can you teach me?"

Tauriel drops her eyes and gently pulls her bow away. "I would think, my lady, that there are some skills that the daughter of Elrond does not need to learn."

The daughter of Elrond - is that all she is here? She remembers Legolas' enthusiasm at the demonstration and Thrandruil's sullen disapproval. "This feels like a practiced refusal."

There is a touch of wryness in Tauriel's smile. "I appear to… make a certain impression on royalty."

Anger flares inside Arwen's chest, as sudden as the desire that Tauriel raised in her earlier in the evening. "I am far from my father's kingdom, archer, and that kingdom is one I will never rule. I am not -" She makes herself stop; there is no point in pretending not to be what she is. Instead she moves forward, until she and Tauriel are face to face and she can feel the archer's warm breath on her cheeks. She resists the urge to touch the other woman's smooth skin; she knows she must speak first. "If you do not want me, I will leave you to yourself. But please acknowledge my desires as those of the woman, not of the rank."

Tauriel leans dangerously close; their foreheads are resting against each other and their lips are brushing in a way that makes Arwen's heart speed up with anticipation. But the expected kiss does not come. Instead, Tauriel speaks against Arwen's mouth. "It is not that I do not want you, La… Arwen. Quite the opposite, in fact. When I first saw you, standing high above me, waiting for me to perform for your entertainment, I worried that I might not be able to tear my eyes away in order to sight my shot." She pulls back, shaking her head. "But you must know that there can be no future for us."

It is an undeniable truth. Arwen wonders why it is a painful one. They met moments ago; they have only exchanged only a handful of words. But she cannot leave Tauriel without at least a taste of the something undefinable she finds herself craving.

Arwen stares up at the sky, and then suddenly the words she needs come to her. "It is said that Mirkwood elves love starlight more than any other form of light. I have been told that the stars themselves are finite, Tauriel. In time, they will burn themselves out; there will be nothing but darkness in their places. Does that mean that you should not take pleasure in them?" 

With shaking hands, she loosens the laces on her robe and lets it fall, hearing the other elf gasp. There she stands in front of Tauriel in nothing but her necklace and her circlet. "In Rivendell, I am called the Evenstar, Tauriel." She is shaking with the sudden chill, with her shock at her own bravery. But Tauriel's eyes are wide; her chest heaves with obvious desire. Arwen knows she cannot stop now; the look on Tauriel's face makes it impossible. She opens her arms wide. "Will you not enjoy me?"

Tauriel's eyes blaze as she lunges forward. Her mouth latches onto the sensitive skin that joins Arwen's neck to her shoulder. Her strong archer's hand squeezes Arwen's breast, none too gently and then it is Arwen's turn to gasp. She grabs hold of Tauriel's buttocks through the fabric of her frustratingly present tunic and feels the strong muscles there. Tauriel's grip grows stronger still as she - finally - kisses Arwen's mouth.

In some corner of her romantic mind, she had expected sweetness. Perhaps Tauriel would taste of honey, or vanilla. But there is none of that. Tauriel tastes of skin and salt, and the flavor is madly addictive. Arwen understands, in that moment, that this will not be a love that the heavens will sing of, not a pleasure of the sky but one of the earth. The idea is intoxicating. She licks at Tauriel's cheek, craving more of her, before sliding her tongue between the archer's lips for a deeper taste.

It is Tauriel who breaks the kiss. When she pulls away, her lips are swollen and her cheeks flushed. She draws a ragged breath. "This can only be one night. I understand that; you must as well." 

Arwen lays herself down on the grass, where countless generations of animals have fed and slept and mated. She relishes the scent of crushed leaves all around her, crisp and sharp and real. "One night", she promises. "But we can have that, yes? One night?" Then she opens her arms, and welcomes Tauriel and all earthly pleasures into them.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Lauren (notalwaysweak) for the third Rare Ship Swap fest. 
> 
> This actually wasn't the pairing we matched on, or one I'd ever considered before. But I just found it impossible to resist! Hope you like the results!


End file.
